You wait an age and then two come along, yep unfortunately I am blogging about poos again.
Last week Mabel went a whopping 11 days without so much as a streak. I even called the nurse at the doctors surgery to check what exactly I did if our baby never went again (at our regular trip to the health visitor she said it was very unusual to go a week and any longer I should get an appointment, the doctor was less concerned but didn't answer my question as to when exactly it did become an issue).
Anyway on Saturday, a very grouchy Mabel managed to go for her monster poo, then another came along tonight. Thank goodness, I had been doing all sorts to help it along.
I tried giving her boiled cooled water before her feed ("oh look she seems to like it" I exclaimed before realising just how much she can hold in her mouth without swallowing and just how far she can then spit it out). Time on her tummy was supposed to help, "I think she likes this too G Kisby, good for the old neck control as well" (as Mabel headbutts the floor repeatedly). I had even resorted to changing my diet slightly in the form of prune eating en masse (tell you one thing for certain, I'm glad that can now stop. I finally managed to get our 'anti sleep' baby to nod off this morning after about half an hour of rocking but then had to swiftly put her down for a highly untimely 'dash' to the bathroom. Needless to say she was awake again upon my return)
I had my first full morning on my own on Saturday too, in the form of a trip to the hairdressers. I managed to only send one, carefully worded so as to sound relaxed, text to G Kisby. My hairdresser, in response to my telling her that this was the case, kindly said I was to have nice conditioning treatment left on my hair in the treatment room. Ah man, all I actually wanted was to get the colour done and get home. Bizarrely despite looking forward to some time alone I then spent the entire time missing her and conscious of how long I was away.
A quick trip into a busy Topshop on the way home then made me feel guilty that I was shopping when I should be getting back for next feed (not that guilty clearly, since still managed to force myself to purchase some more 'boob friendly' tops - these babies either keep escaping from everything I try to wear, or have no escape route at all as per the Dunelm incident).
Anyway unsurprisingly she was fine. Hadn't even realised I'd gone anywhere (dam it, knew I had time for H&M too).
Next milestone, leaving her with a babysitter....